


Unboxing

by ktbl



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober 2020, Married Sex, Pegging, Plot What Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: A gag gift from her company to Sonya ends up being far less of a joke than expected.--Kinktober 2020 Day 7, prompt: pegging!
Relationships: Johnny Cage/Sonya Blade
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Unboxing

“What the fuck is _that_?”

Johnny tilts his sunglasses down, staring at the box on the table in slack-jawed awe.

“A gag gift,” Sonya replies, elbow deep in the sink. “I need to decide who I’m going to give hell and pass it along to.”

“Somebody gave you a strap-on as a gag gift? Gave _you_?” Johnny circles the table. “Who has a death wish?”

“It happens once every few years,” she throws over her shoulder. “Somebody in the company make jokes about me missing a dick and then someone gets me one and… Well, juvenile barracks bullshit. The usual.”

“Are they all still alive?”

“I think,” she says absentmindedly, rinsing off a very large knife and putting it on the drying rack. “Why, you jealous I got a dick? I don’t think you have to worry, yours is definitely bigger.” 

“Wondering what you look like with it on,” he answers with surprising frankness, and he’s behind her all of a sudden, his hands crossing around her chest and grinding his hips against her. She can smell the booze on his breath. She steps forward, away from him, and he frowns. “What? ’S true. You’re sexy anyway. Bet you look sexy packing, too.”

“Who have you been drinking with? And how much did you have, anyway?”

“The bitch finished her filming today, so we had a little party,” he says with a grin, and Sonya should be offended and defend a member of her sex. She can’t be bothered because she’s met the woman and she really _is_ awful, a tongue of acid honey and her whole being full of spite. Almost like Mileena, frankly. “So she’s done.”

“And you’re toasted,” Sonya says, kissing him on the cheek. “Go shower and go to bed. And drink some water so you’re not whining worse than the baby tomorrow about a hangover. I’ve got to finish up out here, make sure Cass is set, and I’ll be in.”

When she finishes up in the kitchen, she notices the box is missing.

Johnny is lounging in the bed, the strap on out of its box and sitting in the middle of the bed. She blinks a few times in surprise, pinching the bridge of her nose with exasperation.

“Why did you take it out of the box?”

He leans forward and lifts up the silicone cock, with that big kid in a candy store grin. “Like I said, I wanna see you with it on.”

For one moment, she weighs the option, wonders if she might be able to bang it right off his face. “You’re drunk, Johnny. I’d say go home, but you’re already here.” She doesn’t bother to listen to any response he might make, just goes into the bathroom and brushes her teeth, readies herself for bed. She comes back to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, the cock in one hand and a harness in the other. She narrows her eyes at him.

“I’m not that drunk, not anymore,” he says defensively. “C’mon, babe. Please.”

Something jumps in his throat and she has a feeling that he’s angling for something. She walks over, cupping his face in one hand. She drags her thumb across his lips, leans down and kisses him, his mouth opening easily for her, his hands fumbling to grab her despite being full. He doesn’t taste nearly as much like booze as she expected.

“You’re not gonna shut up until I do it, are you?”

“Nope,” he replies cheerfully. “C’mon. I found _this_ in your drawer-“

“Because you snoop through my shit.”

“-and you probably look hot as hell. And I want to know why you keep it shoved in the back of the drawer, anyway.”

“You are weird,” Sonya says, pulling off her sweatpants and refusing to give more of an answer. His lips turn down in a moue of dismay. His fingers pull at her underwear, snapping the elastic. She groans. “Really?”

“It’s already out of the box. Gimme the full show. C’mon, babe.”

She turns her back to him, hands fumbling; she hasn’t done this in longer than she can remember, and there’s a growing part of her curious as to just how far he wants this to go.Once the strap-on is settled and the harness clipped properly - because she’s going to do it _right_ if she’s going to do it at all - she strips off her tee shirt and bra, and turns back to him for his final verdict.

It doesn’t take a sniper to see the tent under the sheets that wasn’t there before, and he’s becoming more sober by the minute so she can’t attribute it to him being drunk. He looks like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and unable to pull away from her.

He whistles, and licks his lips. “I was right. You are hot. They even picked the _size_ right. Like, it’s not huge - but if you were going to have a dick, that’s totally the right one for you.”

“Never knew you paid such attention to ratios and proportion.” She makes a rude sound, and he just winks, and she catches him reach one hand up, towards her, before he pulls it abruptly away. “Why, you want to bend over and have me fuck you?” The words are out, sarcastic and dry, before she can reel them back in.

“You want to?” He seems less surprised by it than she expected, and it’s her who now looks poleaxed. His voice is almost eager, and she takes a step back, blinking rapidly.

“I - uh. Not something I ever considered, actually.” She blinks, and he bites down on his lower lip, looking almost dismayed. Like a fucking kicked puppy. Damn it. “You really want to? Have you ever…?” She trails off, gesturing with one hand, not sure how to voice it.

“A long time ago, and a lot drunker than I am now. We were young, and I was stupid-“ He pauses at her smirk, and feigns offense, “and they were really, really hot. Now, my wife? That’s even hotter.”

“Guys or girls?”

“…Both?” He offers it, almost meekly. His shoulders are almost up to his ears with tension, and she takes pity on him.

“Johnny Cage, bisexual disaster,” she mutters, and leans over to kiss him, loose and open-mouthed, letting him draw her down into his lap and run his hands along her. She makes noises of distinct happiness, and she can feel the tension in him ease as she doesn’t run, doesn’t balk. They spend long minutes kissing and touching, both of them warming up to the idea. She spends it thinking about watching him come apart for her, and the idea is oddly arousing in a way she didn’t expect.

“Sure,” she says when they pull away from another kiss. “I love you, you idiot. If this is something you want - you really, genuinely want - then yes, I’ll do it.”

“But d’ you want it?” He stops, looking at her seriously. “If it’s going to gross you out, weird you out, Sonya, I don’t want-“

“It’s my turn to fuck you senseless into the sheets,” she interrupts, tapping him once on the chin, and his grin is blinding.

There are copious amounts of lube, so much that she is almost laughing, asking if they should get a tarp, and she isn’t sure what part of her brain has taken over and is running with this, but it’s having fun. He begins to work himself open and she bites down on her lip, taking in the sight - he’s a big guy, not too much taller than her but broader, and watching him in this exquisite vulnerability is almost terrifying. He’s always got the big nothing-can-hurt-me act on the minute they step outside, and seeing this -

She runs her hands up his well-muscled thighs and over his ass, pouring more lube on one hand and sliding it next to his. She feels him tense up, and then relax, replacing one of his fingers with his. He shudders and then both of his hands are knotting the sheets, his breath a choppy inhale.

“I can stop-“

“No, no, babe, do not stop. Please.” It’s clear and firm and she’s not going to argue this one. She works him slowly, adding lube to her cock - there’s a hell of a thought - and then her other hand. She reaches down below him, cupping his balls in her hand, stroking the shaft with her slick grip. She feels him relax more, and adds a second finger, working it gently inside him.

“I’ll go slow, as slow as you want.”

“Not often I hear you make that offer. Slow’s good, babe. For now, anyway.” And he grins like an idiot again and she wonders how, after everything they’ve been through, he can still be so cheerful.

They shuffle and shift and _gods_ this is not something she wants to end up at the base hospital explaining, and he’s on his knees and his cock is hard as a rock and slick with precome and lube. She goes back to rubbing his ass, gently stretching him, as she takes up position behind him. He looks good like this, and the thought surprises her: he looks _good_ spread and waiting for her, body rising and falling with needy breaths. The next thought is hot on its heels, _what the fuck is she doing_ and she knocks it away, adding just a little more lube to the silicone between her legs, because there can never be too much lube. She pulls her fingers away, shifting, and the head of her cock eases into him.

He freezes, mouth open and eyes wide.

“You want me to stop?”

“No, just - _fuck_ , it’s not fingers, so - just gimme a sec.” He inhales, and jerks his chin down and she begins to slide back into him, every bump and movement of the harness pressing on her, nudging her clit. She cranes over, watches his face as she pushes into him slowly, adding lube, stroking his thighs and murmuring, and damn if he doesn’t look good like this.

“You’re doing good, Johnny,” she reassures him; his answer is a low deep-throated whine, a button she didn’t know she could press. She pokes it again, for good measure. “You’re being so good for me, taking all of this.” He makes an inarticulate noise, somewhere between want and need, pushing back against her.

And then she’s buried to the base in him, the contact between the back of his thighs and the front of hers an electrifying jolt. She runs both hands down the curve of his spine, dragging her fingernails along until her palms wrap around his hips. She gives him a minute to adjust - she takes that minute herself - and then begins to slowly pull out, fractions of an inch in just the same way he likes to tease her. She digs her fingers into his hips, mimicking his own motions, and he lets out a long low moan. She stops, and he shakes his head, hips pushing back against her.

It takes a bit of time to find a rhythm, but they manage to find one that works as she gets into the movements, watching and listening how his body answers hers. She begins to see the appeal in this as he becomes more of a messy wreck beneath her, hands clenching in the sheets and his breathing ragged. She catches herself speeding up, the smack of skin on skin loud and Johnny making wordless groans of pleasure under her. She reins herself back in, leaning forward when she bottoms out and draping herself over him. She could chase her own pleasure easily, just for the pleasure of watching him come apart, drawing the sounds of pleasure out of him for her own happiness as much as his. Control. Slow down.

“You look good on me,” she says, holding onto his shoulders for a moment, biting into the meat at the base of his neck. He lets out another sound, louder this time, fricatives he can’t form into words. She starts moving again, and he starts moving back against her, and she wraps one hand around his cock, stroking it in firm motions that mimic her thrusts.

“Fuck, Sonya-“ His voice is thick and rough and she pulls her cock out of him, plunging back into him in longer and longer strokes, and he is a fucked-out incoherent mess in short order. The idea of peeling him apart like this, she’s never thought about it before, and the way he’s whining and moving back with her, like he’s upset when she’s not buried in him, does something in her gut and her heart that is arousing and frightening at the same time.

“Gods, you look good like this,” she says, as their hips slam together and his cock pushes down into the tight ring of her hand. Why didn’t they do this sooner? She must have said that out loud because he laughs a little, body shaking, and jerks his hips back towards her.

“I didn’t think you would,” he answers.

“Well, you never asked.” She twitches her hips into a series of short thrusts, and her hand mimics the motions again. It’s all he needed, coming in a full-body orgasm the likes of which she has rarely seen out of him. She frowns, a sudden sensation of inadequacy taking root in her. She fucks him slowly through it until he is trembling, chest heaving with breaths that won’t come. She pulls out and he drops onto the bed with a long moan of bliss, and she smacks his ass lightly, chuckling. There’s a moment in the dim light of the bedroom where she fumbles with the harness, pulling it off and pushing it aside, and then it’s off and she is stretching out beside him.

“Was that okay? Hell, Johnny, are _you_ okay?” She can’t keep the little bit of worry from her voice, and he lets out a groan, a kind of wordless well-fucked satisfied sound.

“Sonya, babe, that was…” He trails off, grabs her and wraps his arms around her, kissing her long and deep. “I’m okay. More than okay. Fuck.” He rolls over, and winces, and she lets out a half-laugh.

“Better not have anything major to film tomorrow, you’re gonna be walking funny. And I won’t admit any responsibility to that.”

“Off-day,” he sighs blissfully, kissing the side of her neck. “God, that was good.” His mouth works its way down her body, shifting over the ruined sheets until he can pull her legs up over his shoulders. He curves his hands around her thighs, and plants a kiss on the inside of her thigh. He pauses, eyes narrowing, going a little less glassy. “You never answered. How _did_ you end up with a harness in your drawer, anyway?”

“Not gonna spill all my secrets that easily. Gotta work for those.” She reaches down and ruffles his hair, watches it stick up in sweaty spikes and he is utterly, utterly _wrecked_. His eyes gleam, pupils still blown, and her still-unsteady heartbeat punches up as he grins at her.

“Challenge accepted.”

Her retort is lost, muffled by her palm, as he sets to work to make her spill her secrets.


End file.
